The Internet Monk Archives

Genesis: Where It All Begins (2)

Jews Mourning in Babylonian Exile, Bendemann

Genesis: Where It All Begins (2)
Approaching Genesis and the Bible

No one approaches the Bible and just “reads it as it is.” We come with all kinds of assumptions about what kind of a book it is and how we should read it.

In this second part of our series, I would like to suggest a few fundamental principles we might bring to the opening pages of the Bible to help us as we prepare to read them.

One: No matter what your commitment to the divine nature of the Bible, remember it is a human book as well.

A lot of people out there want us to come to the Bible imagining that, because we say it is God’s word, we don’t read it in the same way we do other books. But God did not write the Bible, people did. It was not dropped out of heaven or dictated by the Holy Spirit to people who were merely conduits through whom God spoke divine words. The mystery of divine revelation and inspiration is that God chose to reveal himself through the stories, poems, prophecies, and records of real people who passed them down from generation to generation, preserved them and gathered them together, and edited them into a collection of “books” we call the Bible. They used various literary genres of their day to communicate their experience of God. Ultimately, the community of faith accepted the authority of these “books” and pronounced this collection to be sacred scripture for the people of God.

God “speaks” to us through human writings. We read them with the same literary approach we use in all our reading. As with other books, readers must try to understand:

what genre of literature we are reading,
how what we are reading fits into the big picture and themes of the whole collection,
and, at least in a general sense, what the author/editor’s intent was in including this particular text and presenting it in the way it has been written and edited.

(Of course, there are meditative and contemplative ways of reading the Bible as well, but these fall more properly under such categories as prayer and spiritual formation.)

Two: Remember that the Bible is an ancient book.

One implication of this fact is that we must try to read this text through pre-scientific eyes. The author and original readers of this passage knew nothing of Ptolemy, Copernicus and Galileo, Newton or Einstein. They knew only the world they observed. If you had spoken to one of them about something as basic to us as “the universe” or “planet Earth,” he would have had no concept of what you were saying.

For example, Genesis 1 opens with “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” That sounds all cosmic to people like us, who have access to the wonders of space, who view them through the Hubble telescope, and who understand the concept of our solar system, where planets orbit around the sun. This gives us a much more sophisticated mental picture than someone in ancient Israel would have had.

Genesis 1:1 more likely carries the sense of “In the beginning God created the skies and the land.” An ancient Israelite would have heard these words (not likely, by the way, that many would have read them) from the standpoint of an earthly observer’s.

In our imagination, when we read Genesis 1 we’re like the Apollo 8 astronauts, orbiting the moon and looking back at the magnificent blue ball of planet Earth. In other words, we imagine that the author is taking us to some divine balcony seat where we can view the action from a cosmic point of view. However, the chapter is actually written from the vantage point of an ordinary human being on the ground, observing a landscape split by the horizon into the regions above and below. Imagine that ancient Israelite, standing there with arms outstretched, saying, “Look, everything you see, from the ground to the sky — God made all that!”

Three: Remember that the Bible is Israel’s Story

We must try to read this text through the eyes of its first audience and as part of the entire book that was given to them. The First Testament was put together during and after the Babylonian Captivity, which ended about 500 years before Christ.

The Exile, after the Exodus, was the most formative experience in the history of Israel. Losing their land, temple, and kingdom provoked an identity crisis in the Jewish nation. In Babylon, where they could no longer practice their religion at the temple, the process of gathering, composing, editing, and forming writings from Israel’s history began. Synagogues were founded where reading, teaching, and prayer became the primary forms for community worship.

The scribes and teachers who led the communities in Babylon had a daunting task — to preserve Jewish identity while living as captives in a foreign land. It was a pastoral task as well — to help the people of God come to terms with why the Exile happened and to begin to imagine what God had in store for them in the future.

The story that begins in Genesis 1 is told as the first installment of the Story of Israel in the pages of what Christians call the Old Testament. A careful reading of Genesis 1-11 shows a distinct Babylonian flavor in the material as well as many emphases that would have been instructive to that community of exiles.

SUMMARY

So, when you open the Bible to Genesis 1, expect to:

Find texts that use a variety of forms of human literature to reveal God and people’s experience of God.
Find an ancient text that reflects ancient perspectives about the world, including a pre-scientific perspective.
Find a text that tells the story of Israel, designed to help the exiled Jewish people understand why the Exile happened and what they should hope for in the future.

Monday with Michael Spencer: My View of Genesis 1

From The Six Days of Creation, by Escher

Note from CM: In preparation for tomorrow’s installment of Genesis: Where It All Begins, I thought I’d bring back Michael Spencer’s perspective on Genesis 1, a general perspective that matches my own.

• • •

From To Be or Not to Be?
Everybody thinks I should be a young earth creationist. I’m not. Why?
by Michael Spencer (undated)

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The young earth creationists believe that Genesis 1 is “literally” a description of creation. I do not. It is this simple disagreement that is the cornerstone of my objection.

I believe that Genesis 1 is a pre-scientific description of Creation intended to accent how Yahweh’s relationship with the world stands in stark contrast to the gods of other cultures, most likely those of Babylon. Textual and linguistic evidence convinces me that this chapter was written to be used in a liturgical (worship) setting, with poetic rhythms and responses understood as part of the text. It tells who made the universe in a poetic and pre-scientific way. It is beautiful, inspired and true as God’s Word.

Does it match up with scientific evidence? Who cares?

Here I differ with Hugh Ross and the CRI writers. I do not believe science, history or archaeology of any kind establishes the truthfulness of the scripture in any way. Scripture is true by virtue of God speaking it. If God spoke poetry, or parable, or fiction or a pre-scientific description of creation, it is true without any verification by any human measurement whatsoever. The freedom of God in inspiration is not restricted to texts that can be interpreted “literally” by historical or scientific judges of other ages and cultures beyond the time the scriptures were written.

In my view, both the scientific establishment’s claims to debunk Genesis and the creationists claims to have established Genesis by way of relating the text to science are worthless. Utterly and completely worthless and I will freely admit to being bored the more I hear about it. I react to this much the same I react to people who run in with the Bible and the newspaper showing me how 666 is really the bar code on my credit card…

Does the Bible need to be authorized by scientists or current events to be true? What view of inspiration is it that puts the Bible on trial before the current scientific and historical models? Has anyone noticed what this obsession with literality does to the Bible itself?

The compliment that is paid to the Bible by those who say it is “literally” and scientifically true comes at the expense of an authentic and accurate understanding of the text.

Sunday with Ron Rolheiser: The Gospel Challenge to Enjoy Our Lives

Sunday with Ron Rolheiser
The Gospel Challenge to Enjoy Our Lives

Joy is an infallible indication of God’s presence, just as the cross is an infallible indication of Christian discipleship. What a paradox! And Jesus is to blame.

When we look at the Gospels we see that Jesus shocked his contemporaries in seemingly opposite ways. On the one hand, they saw in him a capacity to renounce the things of this world and give up his life in love and self-sacrifice in a way that seemed to them almost inhuman and not something that a normal, full-blooded person should be expected to do. Moreover he challenged them to do the same: Take up your cross daily! If you seek your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life, you will find it.

On the other hand, perhaps more surprisingly since we tend to identify serious religion with self-sacrifice, Jesus challenged his contemporaries to more fully enjoy their lives, their health, their youth, their relationships, their meals, their wine drinking, and all the ordinary and deep pleasures of life. In fact he scandalized them with his own capacity to enjoy pleasure.

We see, for example, a famous incident in the Gospels of a woman anointing Jesus’ feet at a banquet. All four Gospel accounts of this emphasize a certain raw character to the event that disturbs any easy religious propriety. The woman breaks an expensive jar of very costly perfume on his feet, lets the aroma permeate the whole room, lets her tears fall on his feet, and then dries them with her hair. All that lavishness, extravagance, intimation of sexuality, and raw human affection is understandably unsettling for most everyone in the room, except for Jesus. He’s drinking it in, unapologetically, without dis-ease, without any guilt or neurosis: Leave her alone, he says, she has just anointed me for my impending death. In essence, Jesus is saying: When I come to die, I will be more ready because tonight, in receiving this lavish affection, I’m truly alive and hence more ready to die.

In essence, this is the lesson for us: Don’t feel guilty about enjoying life’s pleasures. The best way to thank a gift-giver is to thoroughly enjoy the gift. We are not put on this earth primarily as a test, to renounce the good things of creation so as to win joy in the life hereafter. Like any loving parent, God wants his children to flourish in their lives, to make the sacrifices necessary to be responsible and altruistic, but not to see those sacrifices themselves as the real reason for being given life.

…This challenge, I believe, has not been sufficiently preached from our pulpits, taught in our churches, or had a proper place in our spirituality. When have you last heard a homily or sermon challenging you, on the basis of the Gospels, to enjoy your life more? When have you last heard a preacher asking, in Jesus name: Are you enjoying your health, your youth, your life, your meals, your wine drinking, sufficiently?

Granted that this challenge, which seems to go against the conventional spiritual grain, can sound like an invitation to hedonism, mindless pleasure, excessive personal comfort, and a spiritual flabbiness that can be the antithesis of the Christian message at whose center lies the cross and self-renunciation. Admittedly there’s that risk, but the opposite danger also looms, namely, a bitter, unhealthily stoic life. If the challenge to enjoy life is done wrongly, without the necessary accompanying asceticism and self-renunciation, it carries those dangers; but, as we see from the life of Jesus, self-renunciation and the capacity to thoroughly enjoy the gift of life, love, and creation are integrally connected. They depend on each other.

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: July 14, 2018

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: July 14, 2018

It’s county fair season in my part of the world. State fairs are around the corner and these celebrations and gatherings will be going on throughout the summer and fall. I’m trying to decide whether or not we want to offer at our Brunch some of the outrageous and purportedly delectable (?) food offerings that you can find at fairs around the country. Might be worth a look.

Here are a few of the possibilities:

Double doughnut mac and cheese burger with bacon. (Indiana State Fair)

Pulled pork, cheese, sour cream and jalapenos smother roasted potatoes, nacho-style (Indiana State Fair)

Biggy’s Caramel Crack Fries. The French fries are tossed in butter and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar then drizzled with salted caramel sauce and topped with whipping cream and sprinkles (San Diego Co Fair)

Chicken and Waffles pizza with fried chicken, waffle pieces, bacon, mozzarella and syrup (Florida State Fair)

Southern Catfish Sundae: Hand cut french fries, Southern fried catfish, and a slightly spicy Southern remoulade sauce or tangy tartar sauce on top (Florida State Fair)

Zesty PB&J Sausage with peanut butter, cherry jelly, cayenne pepper, pork, and cilantro (Minn State Fair)

Cotton candy vanilla ice cream sandwich covered in Fruity Pebbles cereal (San Diego Co Fair)

Bacon-wrapped Baklava (San Diego Co Fair)

DO YOU WATCH “THE HANDMAID’S TALE”?

The season two finale of Hulu’s “The Handmaid’s Tale” aired this past week with unexpected violence toward privileged characters and a surprise ending that will keep us wondering about the future and prospects of main character June, the handmaid.

There have been many times I’ve considered writing about “The Handmaid’s Tale.” The series is based on the dystopian novel by Margaret Atwood (1985) about an America that has been taken over by a theonomic, patriarchal government called Gilead. Environmental degradation and social diseases have rendered most women infertile and civil war leads to this new regime, which uses biblical texts as the authority to subjugate women for purposes of childbearing.

Some have seen The Handmaid’s Tale as a critique of fundamentalist Christianity. It is true that it is religious fundamentalism that rules Gilead, but is more of an ancient old covenant model of biblicism that holds sway, not the faith of Jesus Christ. Still, given the way some evangelical faith leaders in our day play power politics, supporting movements and policies that, at the least, are questionable in relation to Jesus’ teaching and example, it is not entirely unwarranted that some might see vague parallels, at least in their nightmares.

Do you watch this show? If so, what do you think of it?

QUESTIONS OF THE WEEK…

Why has the Enneagram become so popular among Christians?

For most of America’s history, the Supreme Court was composed almost entirely of Protestants. Why is it now dominated by Catholics and Jews?

Can preachers make an impact in a post-Christian world?

Why was it necessary for the women in the Willow Creek/Bill Hybels scandal to go public?

What is it like to see a way of life fade away?

Is the Bible really our authority?

FROM RIPLEY’S BELIEVE IT OR NOT:

Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Times Square unveiled the fingernail exhibit of Mr. Shridhar Chillal of Pune, India, who had not cut his nails since 1952. Embarking on his journey at the age of 14, he has grown his nails for 66 years. At age 82, he will be memorialized as having the longest fingernails in the world.

Ripley’s flew Mr. Chillal from India to the United States to cut his nails and forever memorialize them in Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Times Square.

Mr. Chillal decided to grow his nails when he was scolded by his school teacher as a result of accidentally breaking the teacher’s long nail. The teacher said that Chillal would never understand the importance of what he had done because Chillal had never committed to anything. “I took it as a challenge,” said Chillal, and there was no looking back.

“Ripley’s is privileged to display this truly unique and one-of-a-kind exhibit. Mr. Chillal dedicated his life to something truly remarkable and Ripley’s is the perfect home to honor his legacy. While he may have cut his fingernails, his nails will be forever memorialized inside Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Times Square.” Suzanne Smagala-Potts, PR Manager, Ripley’s Believe It or Not!

Mr. Chillal’s unusual choice didn’t stop him from leading a normal and happy life. He married, has two children, three grandchildren, and enjoyed a successful career as a Government Press Photographer.

However, as he aged, his long nails were proving more challenging to maintain an ordinary lifestyle. He found it difficult to sleep, and even a gust of wind was cause for alarm. In the memorial case – Believe it or Not! – his cut fingernails are laid flat and span a length of over 31 feet, the height of a three-story building.

He only grew the nails on his left hand. His right hand’s nails are trimmed. Due to years of growing his nails and the weight of the nails, his hand is permanently handicapped. He cannot open his hand from a closed position or flex his fingers.

TURNING NEAR-TRAGEDY INTO COMEDY…

Jim Gaffigan has a new comedy special, called “Noble Ape.” It grows out of some recent scariness in his own family, when his wife underwent surgery for a brain tumor. She is Jim’s co-writer, and it is not only his, but her sense of humor that comes through this new concert.

Here’s an excerpt about that experience.

THE ADMINISTRATIVE STATE…

From The Atlantic: One of the issues about government in our days is the growth and the development of the so-called “administrative state” — the administrative and regulatory institutions outside the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of the government, which have grown immensely throughout my lifetime.

In his article, “America Is Not a Democracy,” Yascha Mounk writes: “In many policy areas, the job of legislating has been supplanted by so-called independent agencies such as the Federal Communications Commission, the Securities and Exchange Commission, the Environmental Protection Agency, and the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau. Once they are founded by Congress, these organizations can formulate policy on their own. In fact, they are free from legislative oversight to a remarkable degree, even though they are often charged with settling issues that are not just technically complicated but politically controversial.”

This is one of several reasons Mounk says that we have a real democracy problem here in the U.S. However, the situation is complicated. Near the end of his article, I found a few paragraphs that, in my opinion, form one of the clearest statements of the dilemma modern nations and their governments face today and in days to come:

For all that the enemies of technocracy get right, though, their view is ultimately as simplistic as the antidemocratic one. The world we now inhabit is extremely complex. We need to monitor hurricanes and inspect power plants, reduce global carbon emissions and contain the spread of nuclear weapons, regulate banks and enforce consumer-safety standards. All of these tasks require a tremendous amount of expertise and a great degree of coordination. It’s unrealistic to think that ordinary voters or even their representatives in Congress might become experts in what makes for a safe power plant, or that the world could find an effective response to climate change without entering cumbersome international agreements. If we simply abolish technocratic institutions, the future for most Americans will look more rather than less dangerous, and less rather than more affluent.

It is true that to recover its citizens’ loyalty, our democracy needs to curb the power of unelected elites who seek only to pad their influence and line their pockets. But it is also true that to protect its citizens’ lives and promote their prosperity, our democracy needs institutions that are, by their nature, deeply elitist. This, to my mind, is the great dilemma that the United States—and other democracies around the world—will have to resolve if they wish to survive in the coming decades.

We don’t need to abolish all technocratic institutions or merely save the ones that exist. We need to build a new set of political institutions that are both more responsive to the views and interests of ordinary people, and better able to solve the immense problems that our society will face in the decades to come.

TODAY IN MUSIC…

One of the best new albums I’ve heard lately comes from an old friend — John Prine. It’s called “The Tree of Forgiveness,” and it’s his first release of new songs in 13 years. This fine record features not only the old master but also some of my favorite contemporary musicians and songwriters, like Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires, Sturgill Simpson, and Brandi Carlisle.

John Prine has twice survived cancer now, having most recently recovered from lung cancer. He’d had neck cancer in the late 1990s. He told Terri Gross on NPR’s Fresh Air that these illnesses and treatments changed his voice enough that he can bear to listen to himself sing now.

Prine has always been a master of language and a clever observer of human nature in all its down-to-earth forms. And this new album carries on the tradition with a strong program of Prine poetic insights. As Will Hermes said at Rolling Stone, “It’s very good, frequently brilliant, with all the qualities that define Prine’s music.”

Here is the most poignant and pretty song from The Tree of Forgiveness, “Summer’s End.” Prine sings with guests Sturgill Simpson and Brandi Carlisle.

•

The album ends with a characteristically clever and rollicking Prine meditation from a guy who is obviously comfortable in his mortality. He sings about how “this old man’s goin’ to town” when it’s time to go to heaven. Sound to me kinda like goin’ to the fair.

•I’m gonna get a cocktail — vodka and ginger ale
I’m gonna smoke a cigarette that’s nine miles long
I’m gonna kiss that pretty girl on the Tilt-a-Whirl
‘Cause this old man is goin’ to town.

Why I am an Ally – Part 6 – When your views don’t match

Welcome to part six in the series. If you would like to catch up on other posts in this series, or on anything else I have written, Internet Monk keeps them all here.

When your views don’t match

Two weeks ago we had some questions from JohnB. I rephrased his questions and put them so some of my pastoral friends who are largely in conservative and/or evangelical communities. We will deal with these questions and responses over the next couple of weeks as I have just started getting responses in.

Three of the responses to one of the questions really struck me, and I thought we could deal with them early as a bit of a side topic. One of my last questions to the Pastors was:

Are any of your answers… constrained by the fact that you are in a particular denomination?

Here are the responses:

First,I would not allow the denomination or church that I serve in to dictate their opinion of this issue. There are issues that I would, but this is not one of them. If I were in conflict with my church’s position and there was no give I would leave.

I still don’t know this particular Pastor’s position, as he will be responsding in detail later, but I must say that my curiosity is piqued.

Pastor #2 had quite a different response:

I would consider myself to be an ally, but… [have not] been able to publicly say so… Denominational restrictions… essentially make it impossible to be supportive of LGBTQ people… unless one wants to be fired. That being said, there is definitely a need for more courageous people than myself to take such stands, especially when there’s such a digging-in of collective heels within neo-evangelical camps to maintain “family values” (which is essentially code for conservative, moralistic, anti-gay patriarchy). However, the issue of livelihood seriously complicates matters and unfortunately when one’s job is on the line, it makes it tricky/risky to be completely affirming within most church/christian contexts.

Pastor #3 told me:

While I would like to be more open to LGBTQ within our congregation, I have chosen to be credentialed and serve within [his denomination] and so have chosen to abide by the restrictions that they put in place.

I will be talking about all their responses to all their questions over the next week, or possibly two, but the thought struck me today that one of the big advantages of being in the “Evangelical Wilderness”, and while attending a church, not being in leadership in a church, is that I feel freedom. Freedom to write what I want. Freedom to believe what I want and express it. Freedom to be wrong.

Yes, I will show some self restraint. I don’t want to hurt people. Relationship IS more important than being right.

Right now, I am just so glad to be in a place now where I have that freedom. I have been in a circumstance similar to that of Pastor #2, and the inner turmoil was crippling. I don’t know how a Pastor could sustain it for long. Yet the response of Pastor #1, “to leave”, isn’t that easy either.

Four and a half years ago I wrote this on Internet Monk:

Like Michael Spencer, I find myself looking over my shoulder. I find myself at increasing odds with my church on both theological and philosophical matters… There have been many times when I have wanted to speak my mind on an issue, comment on Facebook, or even like a post, but have not done so. Primarily because I know that doing so will create conflict and hurt feelings within the church, and probably lead to my removal from leadership of my small group. It is my love and care for those in my small group, and others in the church, that causes me to bite my tongue. To quote my lovely wife, “being right isn’t necessarily always the most important thing.” I wonder though if my convictions about various topics will reach the point where I will no longer be able keep quiet.

For now though, I soldier on, but it seems like I am marching on a finer and finer line. One foot in the church, and one foot in the wilderness.

It feels SO good to be free of that. And yet, I miss my old church SO much.

So here is my question for our readers. What has been your experience in being out of step with others in your church? What did you do about it? And what was the eventual outcome? How did you feel during and after the conflict?

As usual your thoughts and comments are welcome.

Mere Science and Christian Faith, by Greg Cootsona: Chapter 3- Emerging Adults: Are They None and Done?

Mere Science and Christian Faith: Bridging the Divide with Emerging Adults, by Greg Cootsona: Chapter 3- Emerging Adults: Are They None and Done?

We are reviewing the book, Mere Science and Christian Faith, by Greg Cootsona, subtitled Bridging the Divide with Emerging Adults. Today we look at Chapter 3- Emerging Adults: Are They None and Done? Cootsona begins this chapter with the de-conversion story of Don Barker, founder of the Freedom from Religion Foundation, the organization responsible for the “de-baptismal certificate”. Barker has somewhat of the typical de-conversion story (supposing there is such a thing). Raised in a fundamentalist family and church, his dad having had the “lightning bolt” conversion that caused him to throw out and disassociate from everything “secular”. They had a family “gospel” music team, Barker played and wrote many Christian songs, from which he still receive royalties. He went to a Christian bible college, became a pastor, and led many people to Christ. Gradually, he found he didn’t believe anymore—no specific turning point, and now he takes the “preacher” personality he cultivated and uses it for counter-evangelism.

Cootsona brings up this story because one Barna survey found a third of the emerging adults believe the church does more harm than good, which makes it a huge challenge for that same church to try and bring science and faith together. Cootsona wants to relate emerging adult’s attitudes toward faith and science by looking at the late Ian Barbour’s four part typology. Barbour had been at the forefront of the dialogue between scientists and theologians. Trained as a physicist with a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago (1950), and as a theologian with a B.D. from Yale University (1956), Barbour has drawn on the philosophical insights of both disciplines to try to transcend their boundaries.

First type, conflict, asserts that religion and science will never agree. This is the Richard Dawkin’s perspective as well as the Ken Ham perspective—they are really mirror images of each other. The concept of warfare between science and religion has received an onslaught of scholarly critique, but has remained remarkably tenacious in the general public’s mind.

The second type, independence, concludes that religion and science are two completely different ways to look at the world and their boundaries should be observed. The late Harvard paleontologist, Stephen Jay Gould is the most well know proponent of this view with his NOMA, Non-Overlapping Magisterial Authority. Gould’s general point with NOMA is that we should respect the boundaries of both science and religion, as well as affirm the legitimacy of each other. Cootsona’s music director at his first pastorate knew Gould personally, and said he was a brilliant and kind man who didn’t conclude that “thoughtful Christian” was an oxymoron.

The third type is dialogue which involves a respectful discussion of insights from each discipline. Almost every academic theologian or scientist who’s been at a science and religion conference does the work of dialogue. It’s what academics do—talk, talk, talk, and then talk some more.

But if dialogue is fruitful, it leads to Barbour’s fourth type—integration. Integration holds that science and religion need to make a difference to each other through collaboration; it’s exemplified by people such as Francis Collins and Robert J. Russell.

In Cootsona’s experience, both dialogue and integration are well represented in emerging adults. He says:

When I begin my science and religion class at Chico State, I often have the students form a visual graph of where they find themselves on Barbour’s scale by grouping themselves by their preferred type of interaction in the four corners of the classroom. There are few in the conflict corner, a few more in the independence, and the most (usually over half the class) in dialogue and integration. (I also have a fifth spot, in the middle of the room, for those who are undecided. To my surprise, few choose this).

Bear in mind, Chico State is part of the California state school system, and is not a religious institution. Cootsona notes that there is two conflicting sets of survey data regarding the attitudes of college students towards religion and science. One study of 2,381 undergraduates found 70% agreed or strongly agreed with the statement that religion and science conflicted. However, another survey of 10,810 California undergraduates found that, despite the seeming predominance of a conflict-oriented narrative, the majority of undergraduates do not view the relationship as one of conflict. This study found 69% agreed that independence or collaboration was the best way to relate religion and science. Cootsona, trying to make sense of these conflicting claims believes that it is in how the question is posed. The first study asked about the culture at large, while the second one focused more on personal view. Cootsona concluded that, simply put, the majority of emerging adults in these studies sense that there is conflict “out there” in the culture, but they themselves want something better than conflict. They are fatigued by the culture wars. (Oh, Greg, good luck getting the evangelical church to listen to you!) He says:

Unfortunately, I cannot predict that an integration of mainstream science and mere Christianity will dry up the market for Barker’s de-baptism certificates. But it might help stem the flow of “nones” and “dones” away from the church. So how does integration take shape in emerging-adult ministries? How do we speak to a demographic context that hears conflict but favors collaboration or independence?

First, Cootsona says, the church needs to show how it engages mainstream science. Don’t teach the controversy; teach the collaboration. The majority of emerging adults want to move beyond warfare. Second, he says, engage the Internet, the influence of the Internet on the emerging generation is mostly negative, and inflames the conflict narrative. Don’t be a part of that, point to the positive influences on the Internet, like BioLogos. This is one reason I’ve committed to blogging here at Internet Monk. I want to use my credentials as a scientist and a Christian to work for dialogue and collaboration.

Case Study: Cognitive Science and Reasons not to Believe

The case study for this chapter is Cognitive Science and Reasons not to Believe. One of the arguments Cootsona hears from 18-30 year-olds is that the idea of the soul does not make sense anymore in light of the advances in cognitive neuroscience. We dealt with this subject at length in my review of Minds, Brains, Souls, and Gods: A Conversation of Faith, Psychology and Neuroscience by Malcolm Jeeves. The problem, prominent in most Christian circles, is the dualistic concept of the soul—the idea that there is an entirely separate substance within our bodies that make up our soul, like air in a tire, or what philosopher Gilbert Ryle called “the ghost in the machine”. Many Christians think this is the “biblical” position, but it really owes much more to Greek philosophy, particularly Platonism, than Hebrew thought. As we discussed in the Minds, Brains… series, the ancient Hebrew view was that we are a unity of body and spirit. As seen in Genesis 2:7, we don’t have a soul, we are souls, a psychosomatic unity, if you will, or, as I like to put it, an emergent property.

The bible teaches that full redemption includes redemption of the body (Romans 8:23, 1 Corinthians 15:12-57). Our hope is not, what N.T. Wright calls “platonized eschatology”, in which our disembodied essence rises up to a noncorporeal heavenly realm. Rather, Christians traditionally believed in the resurrection of the body and living on an earth that has be remade. So, in a sense, neuroscientists are correcting an erroneous idea that Christians hold.

In a similar manner, evolutionary psychologists who note the human tendency toward cooperation, which helps ensure survival, and produces a common morality. Humans naturally seem to converge upon a common set of intuitions that structure moral thought. Some scientists take this tendency into the service of atheism and use it to impugn belief in God i.e. we can’t help belief in God, our brains demand it. But this view essentially takes atheism as the given starting point and argues to its own conclusion. It begs the question. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says that God has set eternity in the human heart. There is no reason why an evolutionary process couldn’t be the means of that setting of eternity in human cognition. It’s what you’d expect if we are His created creatures.

Another Look: Joe and Marge

First posted in 2012

Marge died today.

A petite, pretty octogenarian, she had been wandering in the world of Alzheimer dementia for many years. I’ve known her for a few of those years, at least I’ve known the lady who rarely sat still, who moved continually from one place to another, looking out the windows, fluffing and straightening the pillows, and then sitting down for a moment, her knees rising and falling as her legs bounced incessantly. Then it was up again, muttering this or that, moving like a tumbleweed blowing across the floor, rarely at rest, moved by some mysterious wind.

“Pleasantly confused” we’d write in our notes, because she’d smile, say a few words that may or may not make sense, give you her hand, and then rise to move about some more.

But today there she lay, still as can be.

Joe, her husband, in the immediate aftermath of her death, seemed a bit lost without her to chase around. His carefully maintained routine had now reached its end.

Joe is also a mover, an actor, a doer. He took care of Marge for a long time. Though he has twenty five years on me I never thought of him as being “old.” He had been an athlete in high school and college, still has most of his hair, and he moves energetically around the house. The military had given him a lot — discipline, plain and direct speech, self-confidence and good habits, a profound sense of duty, and impeccable organization skills. He is a smart man too. Joe had worked for the phone company and he is a master at diagnosing and fixing problems. With all his gifts, he still has an easy, “aw shucks” down-home Hoosier personality. He’s always smiling, quick with a story or a saying, or a “can I get you something?” offer. Then he’s off on the move again, serving his wife by keeping the routine going.

Most of all, he loves Marge.

I don’t mean he is sentimental or romantic. He may be, but I have not seen that side of him. What I have witnessed is the essence of what I take love to be: being with and for another for that person’s benefit.

When Marge came on hospice service, Joe made it clear to everyone that he was her caregiver. We were there to help him, if and when he needed it.

He allowed the nurse to come, of course, to assess Marge and manage her medicines (and he wanted her to have as little of that as possible — only what was necessary). No health aide was needed. He would bathe her and take care of her personal needs. He rarely required social worker visits because he had all the practical matters settled. And in the beginning, he did not want the chaplain. They had their faith and that was enough. Joe believed in routine and didn’t want others coming in and disrupting theirs because he thought it best for Marge.

So, every night they would go to bed past midnight after watching their favorite late night TV show. Marge would sleep soundly until late in the morning. Joe awoke early, did whatever errands he needed to do, and then returned home, read his paper and prepared breakfast for them. He awakened his dear wife, helped her to the bathroom and got her clean and dressed, and then they sat down for breakfast together. While he was finishing up in the kitchen, she would start making her laps around the house, occasionally sitting down to watch a few moments of TV. Joe would spend the day taking care of the household and their affairs while keeping an eye on her and tending to her needs.

On it went throughout each day. Together they played the same sonata over and over again, now moving, now resting, now faster, now slower. On Fridays, he took Marge on a weekly outing to get her hair done. However, for years, they spent the vast majority of their time hidden away, retracing their steps around a closed course. Their world was small, but filled with love. Joe was always with her. Joe was always for her. And she always knew him and responded to him.

After a couple of offers, Joe agreed to let me, the chaplain, come out. I think he wanted to apologize for seeming inhospitable and to let me know that they were people of faith. He just wanted to interrupt Marge’s routine as little as possible.

We had a good visit. I found out they had been hurt and disillusioned by some experiences in church and preferred to keep private about practicing their beliefs. I also found out how funny Joe was and what a good storyteller he could be. He liked me too, and I guess you could say we hit it off. He agreed that I could come out once a month.

He would never have put it this way, but I know these visits were for him, not Marge. He had found someone with whom he could talk and laugh for a little while, and he needed that. I was amazed he felt like he only needed it once a month. We’d talk about his growing-up years and his old neighborhood, sports (always, especially basketball), what he used to do at work, what was happening in his extended family, places he and Marge had traveled, and so on. We had good, friendly conversation while Marge made her rounds or sat in front of the television.

One time he apologized because he thought he might have offended me by saying something negative about church on a previous visit. The way he went about it let me know that he’d been thinking about this for a month and couldn’t wait to unload the burden he’d been carrying. Another time Joe seemed distracted during our usual small talk. After a pause in the conversation, he asked if I officiated funerals. He had been thinking maybe it was time to get that lined up.

Slowly, the routine required more of our team’s participation. The nurse came a little more often. Marge’s medicines needed tweaking to take care of new symptoms. At one point, Joe agreed to having the health aide come, especially to help wash Marge’s hair. It had become too much for her to go out on Fridays. The routine, like a great ship on the ocean, was slowly turning toward home port.

The last time I visited, Marge’s condition had changed noticeably. She was sleeping more and more and moving about less and less. She was far less sure on her feet, and Joe had to guard constantly against falls. To my surprise, he talked about getting a hospital bed and we had a conversation about where he would set it up and how it might help. As usual, he asked every question imaginable and considered every scenario. Joe kept saying, “I’m almost ready to do this.”

If and when it happened this decision would be huge. They had always slept in the same bed, always gone to bed together after watching their late night show. He had always been right next to her if she needed anything in the night. For forever and a day, he had awakened first, got up, and taken care of the morning for them. He had always been with her, by her side, and she with him.

I heard on our team voice mail this morning that Marge fell yesterday. While taking a nap, she had tumbled out of bed. Joe finally agreed they needed the hospital bed. It would come later that day and the nurse would go out to check on them. I decided to call and talk with Joe to see if I could be of any encouragement to him.

Before I had a chance to call, about an hour later, my phone rang. Joe had slept later than usual because he had been awake through the night, worried about Marge. But he knew he had to get up and get their daily routine going. He leaned over, kissed her, then got up and went out to the living room to watch the news. When he came back a few moments later to look in on her, she was gone. Right there in their bed, where she belonged.

He called the nurse and gave her the news.

They wouldn’t need the hospital bed, he told her.

• • •

Photo by Patrick at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Genesis: Where It All Begins (1)

Note from CM: I’d like to devote Tuesdays to some meditations on Genesis for awhile. It has been in studying the Hebrew Bible, and Genesis in particular, that I have come to appreciate a much more “Jewish” sense of the biblical story than much Christian theology acknowledges. N.T. Wright has done the same in the NT.

This journey of interpretation began for me in seminary in the 1980s under John Sailhamer, and it continues today under the guidance of scholars like Peter Enns. Pete himself has said that nothing has changed his perspective on the Bible more than studying under Jewish scholars and those who have brought out the Hebraic emphases of scripture. Consider this series my way of celebrating 35 years of an altered and ever-growing perspective.

This first piece is a re-edited version of a 2013 post. It represents my attempt to capture the meaning of the creation account in liturgical form. Many think Genesis 1:1-2:3 was, in fact, originally a liturgical text. I have rephrased it to bring out the significance of its ancient Hebrew priestly message.

• • •

Genesis: Where It All Begins
One: Listen Up, People! Our God Reigns!
A Reading/Performance of Genesis 1

•

Listen up, people! Our God reigns!
And God makes all things good!

Let me tell you about our God.
Way back in the beginning, God put everything that is in its place.
That’s right, I said God brought order to everything!
It was God, the true and living God.
Not the pretender “gods” of Babylon or any other nation.
God alone is the One who brought order to the chaos.
He made the darkness light and stilled the raging seas.

At one time, this old world of ours was a wasteland,
No place we could call “home.”
It was dark as dark could be and covered with turbulent waters.

Now in Babylon, they’ll tell you stories,
Stories about how their gods were fightin’.
That’s why everything was so crazy chaotic.
Then, out of all that fussin’ and fumin’ and fightin’ one god won,
And that’s how we got our world.
Don’t you believe it!

Here’s how it really went down —
When the world was dark and the waves were crashin’,
God’s Spirit was hoverin’ over that chaos like a mighty wind,
He blew just like the gale that parted the Red Sea.
You remember that, don’t you?
There we were, in the wilderness,
No place we could call “home.”
Waters were threatening us, our enemies comin’ up on us.
That’s when God divided the waters for us, people,
And led us to the good land.

Well, it happened the same way back in the beginning, sisters and brothers!

Now let me tell you all about it.

One day God stepped into that wild darkness and said, “Light!”
He made himself some room in time so he could work.
Called the light “day” and saved the dark for nighttime.
Now I want to hear you say, “That was good!”
Congregation: That was good!

Next day, God did something about all those ragin’ waters.
He said, “Get these outta my way!”
And made himself some space to work in.
God formed a metal ceiling, my friends,
And put some of those waters up there
So there wouldn’t be so much on the land.

Then on the third day God took the waters down here
And ordered ’em into a deep valley so they were all in one place.
And just like at the Red Sea, folks could walk on dry land!
Just then God spoke again and things started growin’ —
All kinds of trees and plants
Sproutin’ all kinds of food to eat
Just like the Promised Land!
Now I know you’re gonna say, “That was good!”
Congregation: That was good!

Day four came along and God said,
“I want this world to be my temple, my palace,
Because this is where I’m going to reign.”
So he hung some lamps on that metal ceiling
To remind us down here that we’re in God’s Holy Place,
And to help us remember the times
When we should come and worship him.
That’s what the sun, moon, and stars are, my friends.
They are not “gods” like others tell you —
They’re the bright and pretty signs that us to the true God.
And I know you will want to say, “That was good!”
Congregation: That was good!

On the fifth and sixth days, God filled his temple with life.
Just said the word, and life started appearing!
He filled the waters with fish and living creatures.
He even put old Leviathan there, the great sea monster.
Now the Babylonians will tell you
You awaken that monster, and you’ll have chaos on your hands.
But I want you to know, he’s just another fish in the sea.
God made birds too, to fly around under the ceiling.
Then he put all the animals on the land.
Filled his temple with life!
Gave them his blessing!
Now wasn’t that good?
Congregation: That was good! That was good!

God had one more thing to do on that sixth day.
My sisters and brothers, he wanted some priests
To represent him in his Temple.
So he made human beings, men and women.
That’s right, people like you and me!
Put them in his temple,
Gave them his blessing,
Provided everything they needed,
And said, “Be my rulers here on earth.
Be fruitful and multiply,
Take care of this Temple,
Overcome anything that tries to oppose it,
And let everyone everywhere know
That I am King.”

Now that’s more than good, isn’t it?
So let me hear you say, “That was very good!”
Congregation: That was very good!

There was only one thing left for God to do.
On the seventh day, he sat down on his throne.
“Oh, this is a good day!” God said.
My work of putting things in their place is done.
All is well in the sky and the land that form my Temple,
And I am on the throne.
I think I’m a-gonna rest, thank you very much.
Maybe you should too, you know.
I made this place for you, to bless you now and forever.”

And that, my sisters and brothers,
Is the true story of creation.
God took the chaos —
Shaped it and filled it, formed it and put it all in its place.
Then God put us here to take care of it —
While he sat down on his throne to rule.

So listen up, people!
No matter what they tell you,
Our God reigns! And God makes all things good!

And I don’t care what kind of chaos you’re livin’ in.
Maybe you think you just don’t have a home anymore.
Maybe you think those Babylonian gods are winning.

But I’m here to tell you, it’s just not true.
So, let me hear you say it!
Our God reigns! And God makes all things good!
Congregation: Our God reigns! And God makes all things good!

Monday with Michael Spencer: Some thoughts about the institution

Old Stone Church. Photo by Allison Richards

If you look at the church throughout time, cultures and history, I believe you will conclude there are three aspects to the church. (Consider this semi-original with me.)

The church is a movement started by Jesus; a culture crossing, church planting movement that proclaims the Gospel in the power of the Spirit.

This movement takes on institutional forms at particular times and places. These institutions are basically conservers of the Jesus movement in particular places and circumstances. For example, denominations conserve the Gospel, the mission, the compassion of Jesus and channel the movement in particular ways.

Finally, the Jesus movement, both institutionally and not, is a community of persons in particular relationships. We see this in the New Testament itself as Jesus makes the development of leadership for his movement a priority, and Paul’s letters show how the movement, once it has taken particular form, presents challenges to the life of the community.

Now these three aspects of the church are not identical, in my opinion and experience, in their responsiveness to the Holy Spirit or imitation of Jesus. Clearly, institutional values are often at war with the values of a movement and the experience of a community.

But this doesn’t have to be the case, Institutional responsiveness to the Spirit and institutional renewal and reformation have all been a historical reality.

But I say all of this to point out that critics of the institutional church may go too far, but they also are usually telling us a good bit of the truth. If we defend institutionalism without a healthy self-critical attitude, we’re likely to be too loyal to what doesn’t deserve all of our loyalty.

Institutions come and go, and we need to be more loyal to the movement and the reality of community than we are to institutional concerns.

Where I work, there are the empty campuses of many schools just like ours all throughout Appalachia. Most are empty and not being used for ministry. Our school changed its way of doing ministry to stay with the Jesus movement and the Jesus shaped community, so we have survived.

A recent President of the Southern Baptist Convention, Frank Page, said that half the denomination’s churches would be dead by the middle of the century. I don’t consider him a carping critic. He is setting the table for new churches and new life in the denomination, because he is refusing to tell the institutional lie that institutional churches always deserve to survive and will survive. That’s not true, and God bless him for saying so.

• • •

Photo by Allison Richards at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Sunday with Ron Rolheiser: 10 Major Faith Struggles Today

Sunday with Ron Rolheiser
10 Major Faith Struggles Today

This is from a few years ago, but I think it still stands up and warrants our attention, contemplation, and discussion on a Sunday.

However you decide to participate today, I hope that your contribution will be personal. That is, I would like for us to talk about our own faith struggles in the light of this list, and not on what we (think we) see around us in others.

• • •

What are the ten major faith and church struggles of our time, at least as manifest within the more highly secularized parts of our world?

1) The struggle with the atheism of our everyday consciousness, that is, the struggle to have a vital sense of God within a secular culture which, for good and for bad, is the most powerful narcotic ever perpetrated on this planet … the struggle to be conscious of God outside of church and explicit religious activity.

2) The struggle to live in torn, divided, and highly-polarized communities, as wounded persons ourselves, and carry that tension without resentment and without giving it back in kind … the struggle inside of our own wounded selves to be healers and peace-makers rather than ourselves contributing to the tension.

3) The struggle to live, love, and forgive beyond the infectious ideologies that we daily inhale, that is, the struggle for true sincerity, to genuinely know and follow our own hearts and minds beyond what is prescribed to us by the right and the left … the struggle to be neither liberal or conservative but rather men and women of true compassion.

4) The struggle to carry our sexuality without undue frigidity and without irresponsibility, the struggle for a healthy sexuality that can both properly revere and properly delight in this great power … the struggle to carry our sexuality in such a way so as to radiate both chastity and passion.

5) The struggle for interiority and prayer inside of a culture that in its thirst for information and distraction constitutes a virtual conspiracy against depth and solitude, the eclipse of silence in our world … the struggle to move our eyes beyond our digital screens towards a deeper horizon.

6) The struggle to deal healthily with “the dragon” of personal grandiosity, ambition, and pathological restlessness, inside of a culture that daily over-stimulates them, the struggle to healthily cope with both affirmation and rejection … the struggle inside of a restless and over-stimulated environment to habitually find the delicate balance between depression and inflation.

7) The struggle to not be motivated by paranoia, fear, narrowness, and over-protectionism in the face of terrorism and overpowering complexity … the struggle to not let our need for clarity and security trump compassion and truth.

8) The struggle with moral loneliness inside a religious, cultural, political, and moral Diaspora … the struggle to find soul mate who meet us and sleep with us inside our moral center.

9) The struggle to link faith to justice … the struggle to get a letter of reference from the poor, to institutionally connect the gospel to the streets, to remain on the side of the poor.

10) The struggle for community and church, the struggle inside a culture of excessive individuality to find the healthy line between individuality and community, spirituality and ecclesiology … the struggle as adult children of the Enlightenment to be both mature and committed, spiritual and ecclesial.